The Piano Man Project Page 0,85

with a few hastily prepared flyers in with their purchases asking for their support, and Old Don’s son had called in a favour from a buddy at the local radio station to ensure that the word would be spread quickly come Sunday morning. They’d been careful to keep things as covert as possible to shield the plan from Christopher’s ears, and so far their luck had held.

Honey lay back on her pillows. Should she see if Hal fancied breakfast? The last few days had surely taught them how to be around each other like normal human beings, right? They ought to be able to manage bacon and eggs unsupervised without fighting or throwing themselves at each other. She could prove once and for all that she could cook bacon, or maybe he could teach her to make the American pancakes that the residents at the home had become addicted to over the last few days.

‘Like little clouds,’ Lucille had sighed.

‘Or pillows,’ Mimi had nodded.

Pillowy pancakes sounded good. Honey pulled herself up, and then reached for her phone when it buzzed and flopped back to check her messages.

Brunch? from Nell.

Café at eleven? from Tash.

Honey considered her options. A slow, chatty wake up with Nell and Tash over buckets of cappuccino and food she didn’t have to cook herself, or risk being knocked back by Dr Jekyll over the way? Only one of those options offered anything close to certainty or safety, or even a guarantee of food.

She sent a text to both girls. See you there in an hour.

An hour somehow became an hour and fifteen, and Honey pushed the café door open expecting to find Tash and Nell already halfway down their first cups of coffee and berating her for her lateness. Weird then, that neither of them were in evidence at all. Tash wasn’t especially known for her punctuality, but Nell hated running late for anything. She was the only person Honey knew who set her phone alarm to wake her up ten minutes before her alarm clock, just in case. She also knew what Simon had started to use those extra ten minutes for these days, thanks to a tipsy conversation when Nell had revealed far too much about their suddenly sexed-up love life. Ordering her usual coffee as she passed the counter, Honey dropped down onto a well-squished sofa and threw her bag on the floor beside her.

After leafing through the paper for five minutes with one eye on the door, Honey reached down and rummaged in the bottom of her bag for her phone.

‘Ma’am, are you Honeysuckle?’

Keeping her eyes cast downwards for a couple of seconds, Honey stopped rummaging and realised she’d been had. She knew without looking up that Elvis had just entered the building.

Turning her face up and her smile on, she slid her phone onto the low coffee table and pulled herself to her feet.

‘I am,’ she said, half holding out her hand awkwardly and trying to remember his name, because she was pretty sure it wasn’t actually Elvis.

He grinned infectiously as he took her hand in his big warm one and dipped his head to kiss her cheek. Honey smelled fresh cologne and washing powder, and found herself impressed by his cleanliness and his big easy confident kid smile.

‘Christian,’ he murmured. ‘Shall we?’ He nodded towards a table for two by the window. ‘I’m starving.’

He pulled out her chair and transferred her coffee to the new table, and while he talked eggs with the waitress, Honey fired off a quick text to Tash and Nell.

You’re both dead to me.

The waitress looked enquiringly towards Honey with her pad in her hand.

‘I’ll have the same,’ she said with a bright smile, even though she’d tuned out and had no idea what Christian had ordered.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I like a girl with a healthy appetite.’

Honey shrugged, unconcerned. She’d eaten at the café dozens of times, there wasn’t anything on the menu she didn’t like.

‘So Tash tells me you play the piano,’ Honey opened the conversation with an invitation to talk about himself, as advised by all the best guides to a successful first date.

He nodded, and pushed his fingers through his chestnut brown hair when it fell in his eyes. Cute, in a Clark Kent kind of way.

‘My whole family’s musical. My mother is a brilliant cellist, she went all around the world when she was younger. That’s how she met my dad,’ he said, as Honey listened to his deep, rich voice and